


Coming Undone

by sylvermyth



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Light Dom/sub, M/M, PWP, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-07
Updated: 2016-11-07
Packaged: 2018-08-29 14:28:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8493439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sylvermyth/pseuds/sylvermyth
Summary: Ventus fantasizes about Vanitas, even though he knows Vanitas is dangerous.  Somehow, that makes it more exciting.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [apiegohome](https://archiveofourown.org/users/apiegohome/gifts).



> Dedicated to my lovely waifu April, who has been bugging me to write Van/Ven for ages. It was her birthday, so of course I was obliged!

The golden eyes plagued his dreams.

Vanitas had come into his life in a whirlwind, and Ventus still wasn't sure how he felt about him. Vanitas had a voice like silk, but even something so smooth could be hard, and Vanitas had more than proven that. His tongue was sharp and often condescending, his words cold.

And yet Ventus was enthralled with him. It was the voice, but also the man's fine figure, deftly wrapped in perfectly tailored suits—the neatness almost at odds with his artfully messy hair—and his face, which was lovely to look at, even with his full lips twisted in a scowl.

And those eyes.

The color was unusual, it was true, but the color was only part of it. There was a feral quality to Vanitas's gaze, something that burned just beneath the surface, dangerous. There was no doubt in Ventus's mind that the man was trouble, and that Vanitas was less than respectful towards him.

And yet.

And yet, he was dreaming again, of those eyes fixed on him, a predatory look, with Ventus as his prey, and Ventus was _hot_ , his body thrumming in anticipation as Vanitas stalked closer. It was an automatic reaction, to take a step back, away from the incoming threat, but Ventus already knew that it would be no use—counted on it, in fact, as Vanitas crowded him until his back hit the wall, and he was trapped between it and Vanitas.

Ventus's breaths were coming fast, a heady combination of fear and excitement, when Vanitas leaned into him, fingers ghosting against Ventus's jaw.

"What's the matter, Ventus? Scared?" His fingers trailed lower, his hand sliding into the hollow of Ven's throat. Ven knew Vanitas would be able to feel his pulse fluttering there, and the way he swallowed. More than that, he felt the danger of having Vanitas's hand there—just a little pressure, and Ventus would be at his mercy. Vanitas's next words came as a breath against his ear: "Excited?" He turned his head and closed his teeth over Ven's ear.

Ven gasped at the sensation, but didn't reply.

"You're not fighting me," Vanitas mused, letting his hand wander lower, down, until he caught the edge of Ven's shirt. His other arm was already curling around Ven's waist. "Even though you've protested so much before."

And, Ven supposed, he probably should fight back. Vanitas was far from good for him. He knew that, and usually when one stopped fighting, it was because they were resigned or defeated. But Ven wasn't resigned, in fact, there was a fire surging through him, urging him to do this. To let Vanitas have what he wanted.

Because it wasn't Vanitas that he was fighting.

It was himself.

Ventus looked up at Vanitas and wondered what his blue eyes were saying. Did they show his hunger, the darkness that Ven felt bubbling up? "Maybe I've changed my mind."

Vanitas threw his head back and laughed, the sound rich and dirty, sending thrills through Ventus. "Is that so?" He loosened his hold on Ven to step back. "What do you want, _Ventus_?"

Ven raised his chin, trying to adopt Vanitas's haughty stare. "I—"

Vanitas laughed again, cutting Ven off. "You're very cute, you know that?" The distance between them was gone in the space of a heartbeat, Vanitas pressed flush against Ven this time. "Very innocent. _I want to make you come undone, Ventus_. I want to strip your innocence away." His hand cupped Ventus through his pants. "Your body seems to have no argument for that." He kneaded Ven's growing erection, and Ven let out a small sigh of pleasure. "Do you?" Vanitas's hand stopped suddenly, his eyes intense.

It was, in fact, Ventus's fantasy, though he wouldn't dare admit it. "Vanitas, please…" It was neither an agreement nor a denial, and Ventus liked it that way. He liked the idea of it, of Vanitas taking what he wanted, whether Ventus consented or not.

Except, of course, Vanitas would make him say it. "'Please' what, Ventus? I'll make you beg, _that_ I can do." His fingertips danced lightly where they were over Ven's crotch, his eyes half-mast and dancing, too, his delight clear on his face. "But if you want me to _fuck_ you, to bend you over and pound your ass like you know you want, _you_ _'_ _ll have to say it_."

There was malice in the words, and Ventus shivered.

Vanitas nuzzled the side of Ven's throat. "Well, Ventus?" Without warning, he sunk his teeth there, too, and Ven let out a half-startled, half-pleased sound.

"M-make—make me come undone." It came out in a whisper, Ventus still as frightened as he was excited.

There was a low rumble in Vanitas's throat. "Louder."

It was embarrassing to say, and perhaps a little contrived, like something from a porno, but— "Vanitas, make me come undone." There was something a little empowering, to say it like that.

Vanitas chuckled and turned his head to capture Ventus's mouth in a kiss that stole his breath. "Of course."

They didn't move to the bed.

Vanitas seemed happy where they were—Ventus with his back to the wall and nowhere to go when Vanitas tugged at his clothing, his hair—Ventus hissed when his head was jerked back and Vanitas descended on his neck again, biting and sucking hard, only to pull back and lave the tender skin with his tongue. And, despite all the tugging at his clothes, Ventus found that it had done little more than set his clothing in disarray, something that frustrated him, especially when Vanitas's hand skittered across his lap, sending his hips bucking uselessly. He twisted in Vanitas's grip, wanting to feel hands on bare skin, and groaned.

Vanitas smirked into a kiss at the corner of Ventus's mouth. "Less innocent then you seem, Ventus?" Ventus curled his hands into the fabric of Vanitas's suit jacket, the fabric there fine, but not skin. "If you want it off, you'll have to do it yourself." Vanitas had turned his attention to Ven's ass, fingers splayed over his cheeks and thumbs teasing at the waist, threatening to drag his pants down.

Ventus hadn't expected that. He'd expected Vanitas to tear his clothing off, to take the choice from him, but instead he was making Ven the one to go after what he wanted.

It made him feel dirty.

But he liked it, liked unbuttoning Vanitas's expensive jacket—he wanted his own skin bare, yes, but even more, he wanted to see Vanitas, all of him—liked pushing it off his shoulders, and then feeling of silk under his fingers as he worked on the shirt next—it was gold, like those burning eyes, and smooth, like his voice—and then the warmth of Vanitas's skin under his hands.

It wasn't enough, of course.

Ven's pants were tight, but then, so were Vanitas's. Ven let his palm linger over the bulge of Vanitas's groin—he was hard, and the long breath he let out the only other sign that he was as affected as Ventus. Still, he hesitated.

Vanitas's fingers curled, digging into his ass, and he thrust his hips forward, bringing their erections together in a way that made a cry fall from Ventus's lips. "I could do this all night," Vanitas purred, grinding into him. "If that's what you want." He was teasing, but Ventus had no doubt that he could follow through. "But wouldn't you rather…" He slid one hand up and then pushed it into Ven's pants, long fingers sliding down the cleft of Ven's ass and stopping just short of their inevitable target.

Ventus could only imagine what it would feel like to have those elegant fingers pushed inside of him, and the thought was the only coherent one—if he could call it that—in his head, what with Vanitas grinding against him from the front and teasing from the back. "Y-yes—Vanitas—" He wanted so badly to feel it—

" _Ventus!_ " Vanitas's voice was sharp, scattering the half-formed thoughts. "Strip."

The command gave him clarity again, the kind of clarity from having choice taken away. Ventus liked that, and he pulled the hem of his shirt up and over his head, letting it drop to the side. They were both in the same state now, but that wouldn't last long. His fingers were already fumbling at the button on his pants, clumsy with the feeling of Vanitas's eyes on him. He glanced up, got caught in Vanitas's gaze, and he had to get his pants off, _now_ , and, oh, Vanitas's chest was rising as quickly as his own, his neck and face as flushed as Ventus's probably were.

His pants pooled at his feet, and Ventus kicked them away, his hands already moving to Vanitas's slacks. He didn't want Vanitas's scrutiny on him like this—it would be better if they were both—

"No." Ventus looked up in surprise. "On your knees. You want to taste me, don't you, Ventus?"

Ven swallowed and thought about it, working at Vanitas's button until Vanitas covered his hands with his own. "Taste, you mean…" He felt his face heating.

Vanitas looked smug. "Say it, Ventus. Tell me how much you want to suck my cock."

"I—but—I—" Vanitas canted his hips forward, just enough for his knuckles to brush Ventus's own bare erection, causing it to jump. Ventus let out a low moan, and when he tried to push back, Vanitas evaded. He wanted the friction, wanted it, and wanted to feel Vanitas against him, but he was being denied. He bit his lip. The thought of Vanitas, in his mouth, though, oh, that was good, too.

"You do want to."

Ven dropped his eyes. "Yes." He began sinking to his knees.

"Yes, what, Ventus." Vanitas slid a hand into Ventus's hair as soon as he was kneeling, and grabbed a handful to tilt his head back, to make Ven meet his eyes.

The dark look made Ventus shiver. "Let me suck your cock, Vanitas." Feeling bold, Ventus nuzzled Vanitas's crotch, and he could smell him, musky sex and cologne. His own erection throbbed, but it was no longer trapped in his clothing, and that was something. It felt good, to do this. Vanitas's lips stretched into a smile, and he threaded his other hand into Ven's hair, leaving Ven's hands free.

He made quick work of Vanitas's slacks, and in his hurry, only pulled them to his thighs before taking in the sight of Vanitas. It was a sight to appreciate, to be sure, but his goal was not to just look.

Vanitas's cock was hot in his hands, and hard, and when Ventus leaned down to take him in his mouth, bitter and salty with precum. He heard Vanitas's breath leave him in a rush, but he was already focusing on the feeling of fullness in his mouth, the press of Vanitas's dick against his tongue, and then the back of his throat, and the stretch of his lips around him. It was good, so good, and he moaned. Suck, moan, tongue.

Vanitas's grip on his hair tightened, and Ventus nearly choked, had to back off with saliva and precum dripping from his mouth, and then he was being pushed back, and down, on his back on the ground, and he was pinned again, this time between Vanitas and the floor, and Vanitas's cock dragged wetly against his leg.

"You slut. You little whore, you act all fucking innocent," Vanitas was growling, and Ventus realized Vanitas had started cursing him with his dick in Ventus's mouth, "but such a clever little mouth. _I_ _'_ _m going to fuck you up._ " Vanitas fumbled his pants the rest of the way off, pulling something from the pocket in the process.

"Ah!" Ven's eyes flew wide when Vanitas's mouth descended on his cock, a finger teasing his ass—not yet slick, and not entering, but Ventus wanted it. His hips jerked and he curled his hands into Vanitas's thick hair. "Vanitas—!"

Vanitas pulled back with a wet _pop_. "What do you want, Ventus?"

"F-fingers!" Ventus tried to press into Vanitas's teasing finger, and was denied. Instead, Vanitas brought his fingers to Ven's lips.

"You want my fingers, yes?" He idly tweaked one of Ven's nipples with his other hand. "Like this?" He pushed his fingers past Ven's lips next. "Or this?"

Ven shook his head, and Vanitas pulled his fingers away to let him speak. "I-I want—I want—" Vanitas cruelly licked a line up along his cock. "Fuck, Vanitas—!" He gasped in a breath. "Stretch me—open me up with your fingers, please—!"

Vanitas chuckled. "Of course." Vanitas licked another lazy stripe up his cock, his attention half on that and half on the lube he'd pulled from his pants.

It was a strange feeling, but not entirely unpleasant, when the first finger slid into him, and then the second, a little uncomfortable, but he quickly forgot the discomfort when Vanitas's fingers found that spot inside of him, and he let out a strangled cry. With Vanitas's mouth on him still, and his fingers touching him so intimately inside, he could feel the heat building in him, orgasm rushing up to him.

But Vanitas robbed him of it, pulling back suddenly and wrapping a hand tightly around the base of his cock. "No."

Ventus blinked dazedly and whimpered.

Vanitas withdrew his fingers, leaving Ventus feeling empty as well as unfulfilled, but he was already nudging Ven's legs open with his thighs, climbing up his body. Ven bucked his hips, an attempt to gain the friction he so desired, and Vanitas denied him _that_.

"Vanitas—Vanitas—!"

"Tell me what you want," Vanitas growled in his ear. "I'm only going to fuck you if you ask for it, Ventus."

And by then, Ventus was too far gone. " _Fuck me, Vanitas!_ "

Vanitas grinned in satisfaction.

It hurt, at first, Vanitas's dick a much larger intrusion than his fingers, but it filled him up _so good._ And almost as soon as he'd adjusted to it, Vanitas started to move, and with a twist of his his— _fuck_ —Vanitas's cock hit him just right, and pleasure rushed through him.

It took Ventus a moment to realize that the string of breathy moans were his own.

Not long after—it didn't take much, after all—he was spilling his release over his stomach, Vanitas still fucking him, and his nerves were raw and it was too much, too much—and then Vanitas was coming, panting as his hips stuttered.

Vanitas slid from him and collapsed to one side. "You're a fucking mess, Ventus." With a smile, he pulled Ven in for a deep kiss.

Ventus agreed with a groggy hum.

In his dream, Vanitas helped him stagger to bed, and that was something he hadn't expected, either, but he drifted off, sated.

He was warm and comfortable when he woke, but the comfort quickly disappeared when his eyes fluttered open.

Just a breath away, his face peaceful in sleep, was Vanitas.


End file.
